


Smoke in the Wind

by Whatwefightfor



Series: We Must Be Brave [12]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: 5+1, Almosts and Maybes, F/M, Five times they almost touched and one time they did, Mentions of Hive Corruption, Pre-Relationship, The Chronicon, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatwefightfor/pseuds/Whatwefightfor
Summary: The silence killed Aunor’s momentum. It made her suddenly self-conscious. Touching a hardened warrior like that - one who seemed so touch averse. She should have known better.“Sorry,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I shouldn’t have-”
Relationships: Guardian/Aunor Mahal
Series: We Must Be Brave [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1291235
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Smoke in the Wind

"You need anything, you know where to find me," she reminded him.

It was late afternoon when they passed each other. She was headed to the courtyard. He must have been going to the annex. They met in the hallway between the bazaar and the common area. 

The usual frame was absent. No sounds of sweeping, just their breathing, their Ghosts. The HVAC above them. The distant sound of pigeons' wings.

Strangely, North had greeted her, but fell silent afterward. It was the Young Wolf's nod that acknowledged her. He did know where to find her.

He hesitated as if there was something left to say, but then simply said "Excuse me," in that soft rasp of his, and angled past her.

Aunor realized they'd only been a few feet apart. He'd gone into a lot of trouble to pass without invading her space.

She resisted the temptation to watch him go. 

-

She was in her office when a knock stirred her from a particularly boring spreadsheet. "It's open," she said, and hit the buzzer under her desk.

The door slid open and in came the Young Wolf and his Ghost.

"Hello, Aunor," North said. He always spoke first.

"You two are a welcome sight," Aunor said. "What can I do for you?"

"We have something for you." North beamed a swirl of light into the Young Wolf's hand. It solidified into a book, old-fashioned, bound, but not like any book from Earth. It's cover and faces were octagonal, the script cramped and blocky, and the pages overlined in gold.

"This is it?" She said, appraising it.

"The Chronicon," North confirmed. "As promised."

The Young Wolf approached her desk. She thought he was going to set it down or even throw it, but he handed it to her. It was solid and heavy. He didn't let go for a moment, his fingertips centimeters from hers.

"Don't freak out," he said. 

She remembered what he'd told her before. "I'll take it with a grain of salt." The book settled in her hand as he drew away, but didn't go far. That hadn't been enough to reassure him - she could tell by the direction of his pout, the lines on his brow. 

"Don't worry," she said. "Nobody doubts your loyalties." _Not anymore,_ a rare kernel of guilt sang in her gut, but she paid it no mind. 

Telling him he'd been investigated over Cayde would only hurt him. Normally, Aunor preferred being frank, but with him, something made her hold back.

The Young Wolf nodded uneasily. "We'll leave you to it," said North. "Thanks."

Aunor watched them go.

She turned back to her screen and let raw information take over. The book sat heavy on her desk. 

-

Aunor was in the Hangar picking up a dead drop when North commed her.

“Aunor, do you read me? You need to come to the Crucible, and quickly!”

She glanced over her shoulder and accepted the call. “What’s wrong? Can it wait?”

“Negative. We’ve got Dredgens. I’m not sure if they’re the real ones, but-”

“I thought we put a stop to that.” Aunor ground her jaw. “I’m on my way.”

“You might need those Ghost restraints,” North said, sounding uncomfortable with the concept. “And it’s probably best that you come alone. My Guardian told Shaxx not to send in the Redjacks because he didn’t want to spook them.”

Aunor was moving. “How many?” She pushed past a Tower tech and caught the tool box he almost dropped, nodding in apology but not wasting any more time.

“Two,” North said. “Both armed with Thorns. They might actually be real. We didn’t want to risk it, so we called off the match.”

Aunor let Bahaghari float out of her pack and looked at her askance.

“Already sent the request,” Bahaghari said. “Restraining bands on their way to the postmaster.” 

By the time Aunor reached the courtyard, Kadi 55-30 had two orange restraining bands waiting on the counter. They had always looked oddly like glowsticks. Bahaghari snapped them up with a transmat beam so that Aunor didn’t even have to break her stride, and her ship was coming around to the back platform.

As soon as she hit the cockpit, she locked onto North’s coordinates and maxed her sublight throttle.

It took less than three minutes to get to Widow’s Court. As soon as her boots hit the ground, she could already hear raised voices, but North had gone silent, so she had no update.

She hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid.

“I’ll be hiding now,” Bahaghari said, and dematerialized as Aunor crept up behind a crumbling stone wall. She held her Quitclaim shotgun at the ready, but it was just a decoy. The restraining bands were in the back of her belt, ready to fly as soon as she and the Young Wolf dropped the rogue Guardians, if it came to that.

In hindsight, maybe she should have brought a full squad anyway. At least Malphur wasn’t here.

“I said back off, hero,” an unfamiliar voice snarled. “We have you two to one!”

“I like those odds,” said the voice of the Young Wolf. 

“Hurry,” said North suddenly in Aunor’s ear. “This is turning ugly fast.”

Aunor craned her neck, trying to see the scene on the other side of the wall without sticking her head out too far. The Dredgens were calm because they thought they were in control, but if they saw her and thought the Young Wolf had an accomplice, they could panic.

She saw them clearly enough. They were on higher ground, decked out in mostly black, a Titan and a Warlock, wearing overemphasized rebreathers and Hive-bone trophies. Their Thorns were out and leveled at the Wolf, pulsing with a sickly green glow. A fake didn’t look any different from the real deal, so there was no way of telling if a bullet from these would sever his Light or not.

The Young Wolf was about ten paces away, a cannon in each hand - the Last Word, and Cayde-6’s Ace. He held his position.

“Stand down,” he said simply. “Last warning. Those weapons aren’t safe.”

“That’s the idea,” said the Warlock. 

“What are you gonna do, take them?” The Titan cocked the hammer on hers. “Seems like you have an interest in guns that don’t belong to you, Wolf. You really are just what others make you, aren’t you?” 

Now that was interesting. Aunor watched the Young Wolf’s reaction carefully, but it seemed like he let it slide off. “Haven’t seen you in Gambit lately.”

“You ruined Gambit,” she spat. “Eli trusted you, but guess what? Now he trusts me more.”

“So that’s her,” Aunor murmured. Drifter’s protégé, the one the tapes had been intended for. Information on her had been hard to pin down. 

“Drifter and I have an understanding,” the Young Wolf said. “He know you’re playing with death now?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” the Titan said. “Someone’s got to keep Malphur off his back. Unless you’re gonna be that headache now?” She sighed. “You’re worse than Mahal, Hivebane; you know that?”

“Nox,” said the Warlock. “He’s not gonna let us go. We should-”

“Shut it,” she said, visor and weapon locked on the Young Wolf.

‘Nox’ must have been her Dredgen alias. Aunor mentally filed it, and then racked her Quitclaim. This had gone on long enough.

She stepped out into the open. “Praxic Order! Weapons down, now!”

The Warlock fired, the wrong un-noise of the Thorn’s report echoing off the cathedral behind them. Aunor ducked, felt a slipstream against her shoulder.

The Word barked twice, but as the Ace joined it, Dredgen Nox summoned a banner shield, deflecting the third shot harmlessly. The Warlock fell. She didn't, safe behind her shield. 

Aunor dove out of cover and slung a restraining band downrange. It flew toward the downed Warlock’s Ghost, but just before it hit home, Nox reached around her barrier and sprayed the air with her Thorn. One of the darts connected, mutilating the band and knocking it out of the air.

The Young Wolf rolled sideways, holstering the Word. It seemed like he was frustrated with it. He leveled Ace at the Warlock, who was already being rezzed, but Nox kept firing, warding him off.

Aunor crammed the second restraining band back into her belt and brought up her shotgun. The Quitclaim was a precision frame, and a good one. It had a six-foot spread at a hundred yards. She squeezed the trigger once, twice, keeping pressure on the banner shield. 

Nox grabbed her Warlock friend and dragged him behind it, responding with her Thorn. Aunor slid out of the firing line. It wouldn’t be long before the Titan had to reload. Without Crucible safety measures in place, they couldn’t unleash their Light without risking harm to each others’ Ghosts, so this was going to be a gunfight. 

The only question was whether she and the Young Wolf could sustain a hit.

The absence of weapons fire created an awkward silence. Aunor and the Wolf waited behind cover, while the Dredgens huddled behind the gradually splintering banner shield.

“Alright, detective,” Nox said bitingly. “You got us. Now, here’s how this is gonna shake out. We’re leaving - you don’t shoot us, and we won’t shoot you.”

Aunor stood, and before anyone could react, Blinked across the flat ground to where the Young Wolf was crouched behind some rubble. He didn’t flinch.

“How about you hand over the Thorns and we take you back to the Tower instead?” Aunor said. “How long has it been since either of you talked to your Vanguard?”

“Not happening,” said Nox. “You want these, you’ll have to take them!” Aunor heard a reload sliding home. “But I don’t recommend trying.”

Aunor scowled. She didn’t have enough restraining bands, so an Arc pulse from another source would have to do. It was risky, but a skilled Stormcaller could discombobulate a Ghost without hurting it. It was what they’d done in the days of the Iron Decree, before restraining bands had codified such nonlethal takedowns.

As wire-thin lightning began to gather around her fingers, she felt a presence at her side. She turned. The Young Wolf’s hand was hovering near her arm, unsure, but as their eyes met, she realized he was shaking his head.

What did he want? Was he asking her to show mercy? Or did he think she was prepping a grenade?

“Stun pulse,” she said. “I’m down a restraining band.”

He hesitated, then withdrew his hand, dipping his head. It was less a nod and more an acquiescence, though it carried a note of apology to it. 

“On three,” he said. “One, two--”

The two of them burst around the corner. The Young Wolf stood, feet planted wide, guns akimbo, bringing down first the banner shield, then muffling Dredgen Nox’s attempt to return fire. The Warlock shot back even as Aunor, crouched in front of the Wolf’s billowing cloak, let fly her restraining band. It snapped into place around Nox’s Ghost, immobilizing it.

The Warlock’s opening shot missed, but the follow-up ate through the Young Wolf’s shields and ricocheted audibly off his helmet, shattering an eye lens. He fired back, dropping the Warlock with the Last Word.

As soon as the Warlock fell, Aunor Blinked again, this time emerging with his body at her feet. When his Ghost appeared, it looked up, her shadow falling over it.

“Hold still, Little Light,” she said, and shocked it.

It was a perfect technique. The Ghost went rigid, and then fell neatly into her outstretched hand, scrambled, but alive. It wouldn’t be able to resurrect its Guardian for a time, long enough to get it in proper restraints.

Aunor let relief set in. The Young Wolf walked up behind her, pistols sheathed. 

“Ouch,” North said.

“Call the Redjacks,” said Aunor. “We need to secure these Ghosts.”

-

“Come take a look at this,” Aunor said as he darkened her door again.

The Young Wolf strode toward her, that melding of sureness and discomfort haunting his every step. She wasn't sure where its roots were - humility, perhaps, or paranoia.

Whatever it was, she was starting to find it strangely charming.

“We poked Drifter about Dredgen Nox. He knows her by ‘Cassandra’. Apparently he had nothing to do with the Thorn, just like you thought.” Aunor pushed her hair off her forehead and sighed. “Other than that, the intel he shared is...lacking.”

“His word is good,” the Young Wolf said. “He wouldn’t help her make a Thorn.” He squinted at the screen, leaning his hand on the back of her chair. 

“Why did he write, ‘please complete your report’?” asked North.

“That was me,” Aunor said.

“Ah.” North sagged a little. “Well, I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“If he didn’t help her, then I’m wondering who did.” Aunor looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. “Thoughts?”

“She could have found that information on her own,” North said as the Young Wolf thought. “Teben Grey’s journals are out there.”

“Could be,” said the Young Wolf. He kept entirely still. Aunor could feel the heat of his body, although she knew it was just an overactive imagination. She’d probably had too much coffee. His weight was leaning on her chair, but his hand was carefully positioned to not touch her shoulder.

Aunor shrugged. “She’s escaped from custody, so that trail is cold for now.”

The Young Wolf did a double take. He frowned at her.

“Slipped away from Shaxx’s frames,” Aunor said, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “It happens.”

“That’s odd,” North said, and the Young Wolf nodded, but neither of them elaborated.

“Cryptarchs are analyzing the Warlock’s Thorn, but there’s no way to really test it,” Aunor continued. “We should all watch our backs, just to be safe. I’d like to follow the guns and see where they go, but until your friend shows up again, we’re S.O.L.”

“I’ll keep an eye out next time I get Invaded,” the Young Wolf said.

Aunor raised an eyebrow at the Gambit lingo, but let it go.

She looked back at her screen...and then down at his legs.

“Do you want a chair?”

-

“Ritual’s starting out there,” he said.

The Hive had dug in deep on Titan. They had both cramped and gaping tunnels networked through more than one solarium. It wasn't realistic to try and burn them out for good. Not yet, and maybe not ever.

Aunor looked up from the makeshift command consoles, over to where he was staring out the window. Methane rain glazed the bulletproof glass, running in wide rivulets that mimiced the waves below.

It had never really registered to her that he’d changed his cloak, but he had. It seemed like the tribute to Cayde was one he wore rarely - in that way, he wasn’t like the old Hunters, the ones who wore a fallen comrade’s cloak until it was nothing but threads as a ritual. Immolation by the elements, by time.

This cloak was short, tattered, with a peaked cowl and an external comm unit strapped to his shoulder. It felt vaguely familiar. Something about it reminded her of Uldren Sov. That comment about being what others made him rang in her mind. Was it true?

The Young Wolf, the Hero of the Red War and savior of humanity. A blank. Moldable by anyone with the means.

Aunor narrowed her eyes and shoved the thoughts down. She turned back to her work.

“Not our problem,” she said, watching power coupling scans and activity monitors. “They’re not interfering with the surveillance network. We’ve got eyes, so let’s see if we can find your friendly Captain.”

They’d come to Titan for the express purpose of finding Mithrax, the Fallen who’d aided the Young Wolf some time ago and who had reportedly recruited at least two Guardians. It was held by several Hidden agents that he couldn’t be trusted, but of all the influencers in the Houses, he seemed to be sympathetic to the City.

The Young Wolf had convinced Aunor to take another look.

“We don’t know how to feel about Variks anymore,” North had said. “But Mithrax helped us. We owe him the benefit of the doubt.”

Mithrax had been sighted on Titan and at the Farm, but failing the latter, the two of them had gone to the moon hoping he’d returned to some kind of operations base.

Aunor looked up in irritation. “Do they have to chant so loud?” The Hive Wizards’ screeching supplications were mounting, and the air was heavy with dark intent. It made her spine crawl.

“You get used to it,” said the Young Wolf, but his hackles were clearly up, too.

Aunor watched the feeds. No movement from any Fallen that she could see. Then a purple glow around a corner - was that a Servitor? Her interest was doubled when a bolt of cloth appeared in the corner of the frame.

“I might have something,” she began, when the door suddenly slid open.

Both Aunor and the Young Wolf lunged for the control console, where she’d set her Minuet-42 hand cannon. Their hands closed in on it, flailing within a hair’s-breadth of one another, but the Young Wolf scooped it up first and aimed for the doorway.

“Friendly fire!” Sloane called. Her hands were raised, but there was a bewildered grin on her face. “Shucks, this place haunted or something?”

The Young Wolf mumbled something about Luna. 

Aunor held out her hand to him while looking at Sloane. “Surprised us, is all. Ritual put us on edge.”

“Sometimes I think Holliday was the only one it didn’t drive up the wall,” Sloane said, shaking her head. “That girl could replace an NLS engine in the middle of an ion storm.”

Removing his finger from the trigger guard, the Young Wolf turned Aunor’s cannon over in his hand and gingerly returned it to her. The grip was warm.

“Sorry,” he said. 

“You find what you were looking for?” Sloane asked, approaching the monitors to take up her usual spot.

Aunor looked back at the screen. Of course, the hints of Fallen activity she’d seen were gone.

“Not today.”

-

She found him sitting on the edge of a service rail, watching the City below as dusk turned to night. The lights were an insulating web of color, unearthing a strange, romantic landscape unseen since the Collapse.

Neither he nor North spoke as she sat down. His helmet was on, but she’d left her casque off, the wind toying with her hair.

“I read through it,” she said. 

He turned, watching her through his peripheral vision.

Aunor crooked her leg, looking down at the Wall. “I’d have brought it to the Vanguard if I had any doubts. Called for your removal.” She met his gaze. “I didn’t.”

“...Thanks,” North said.

“We’ve done good work together,” Aunor said. “I can’t know you like that, and not trust you a little too much to believe a Psion that doesn’t know what root beer is.”

The Young Wolf made a soft noise that might have been a chuckle.

North whirled and floated closer to her. “The worst part is the later entries,” he confided. “He doesn’t like seeing it written that he would kill all our friends. Even me. Even if...it’s not really him.”

Aunor nodded. “I understand.”

North glanced back at his Guardian, but said nothing further.

The Young Wolf took a breath. “Someone once told me that we’re better than our worst fears.”

“Someone sounds wise,” Aunor said. 

He looked at her straight on. “Cayde left a message for me in case I’d killed him. He assumed he’d gone bad. Needed put down.”

Aunor took that in for a second. It was something she was certain no one else knew. After killing Uldren Sov, he’d disappeared and showed up at the Tower one day with Cayde’s personal effects, but it had never been explained how he’d gotten them.

“It was one thing to see Cayde worrying about it,” said North. “He even asked us not to re-boot him. But in Calus’s reality-”

“-no one could stop us,” the Young Wolf said. “No one could stop _me._ ”

The concept clearly made him afraid. It was one of the things that made Aunor afraid, too, but she sensed if she showed that now, it wouldn’t help him. 

“I’ve never been much for condolences or pep talks,” she said. “How about a little logic instead?” 

Standing up, she crossed her arms. He watched.

“You’ve been killed in the Crucible, yes?”

“Plenty,” said North.

“Gambit?”

North twitched. “Right again. Though...we know you don’t approve.”

“Fighting other Guardians is difficult,” Aunor said. “No matter how strong your Light, sooner or later, someone gets lucky.” She strode up to him, bent, and poked him in the chest. “Calus overestimates your powers. And so do you.”

The Young Wolf almost jumped out of his skin. He looked down at her finger as if it was a Hive Worm.

“It’s true sometimes you go where we can’t follow, but the Hidden are watching over you, myself included. And we’re not the only ones. We know what happens if we leave you to face your demons alone.” Her eyes flared. “We learned that from Rezzyl Azzir.”

North started to speak. “What does he have to do with-”

“I know you know he was Dredgen Yor,” Aunor said. “I know you see that same path for yourself. You’re tired. I can see it.” Her voice softened. “So don’t forget we’re behind you.”

The Young Wolf said nothing. He just sat, frozen, staring at the finger jabbing his chest.

The silence killed Aunor’s momentum. It made her suddenly self-conscious. Touching a hardened warrior like that - one who seemed so touch averse. She should have known better.

“Sorry,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I shouldn’t have-”

Before she could get far, the Young Wolf’s hand caught hers. It was gentle; he didn’t manage to lace their fingers or even truly grab her hand, but it stopped her all the same.

Now Aunor was the frozen one.

His helmet disappeared in a wire-frame bloom of light. eyes stared up at her, some deep and unknown emotion caged behind them, desperate to get out.

“Aunor,” he said, and his voice cracked. “Will you join my fireteam?”


End file.
